<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Bluebell by Kangoo</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23484037">Bluebell</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kangoo/pseuds/Kangoo'>Kangoo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>April Bouquet [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dishonored (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Minor Injuries, Rescue</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 08:27:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,345</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23484037</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kangoo/pseuds/Kangoo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the Outsider outrageously plays favorite</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Corvo Attano/The Outsider (Dishonored)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>April Bouquet [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1685779</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>160</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Bluebell</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>theme: grateful</p><p>'i don't play favorite' yes you DO you immortal idiot</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Corvo’s head aches, a clear sign that he overdid it with his powers, and he can’t wait to reach the Dreadful Whale and crash in his cot to get the few hours of sleep he desperately needs. It’s so close he can see it from his perch. He wishes he could drop to ground level and walk there, but the streets are swarming with guards and his building migraine won’t help any with stealth. The roofs will have to do.</p><p>There are a few risky jumps on the way. By his estimation, he has maybe one blink left in him. He’ll just have to be careful and make it count.</p><p>His first mistake is to think he won’t need it to cross the gap between the building he’s standing on and the next one. He takes a running leap. It’s only when he jumps off the edge that he realizes his error. He closes his hand and <em>pulls</em>, letting the energy of the Void wash over him. The pain in his head spikes, sharp enough he has no choice but to let go, and instead of landing safely on the other roof he slams into its edge and plummets to the street.</p><p>It’s a short fall, thankfully, but the impact with the ground knocks the wind out of him. Corvo lays there for a second, head ringing and body throbbing with dull pain. Footsteps echo close by, shouts from the guards. He groans and gets to his feet. The sound of him hitting the ground must have alerted them. Which, thinking about it, is a little shameful, but he’s done worse during the Plague. The lack of rats in his current situation already makes it more dignified than most of what he did then.</p><p>He goes to run and stumbles barely a few strides in, pain shooting up his right leg. Damn, must have fallen wrong on it.</p><p>The second it takes to push the discomfort aside is enough for the guards to reach him. There’s three of them — nothing he can’t handle but he doesn’t like his chances much in his current state. He turns on his heels and sees the other end of the alley shadowed by more guards rapidly closing on him. He swears and unsheathes his sword, parrying the first attack his way and sending the guard to the ground with a kick to the knees. A well-placed elbow makes the other guard stumble back and leaves him winded, enough for Corvo to turn around and take a swipe at the other guards coming behind him. Their swords collide in a shower of sparks. Another blade catches him in the side from behind and he rolls out of the way before he’s gored.</p><p>He brings his hand to his side briefly to assess the damage and hisses. This isn’t good. He doesn’t want to kill any of them, but it doesn’t matter: even if he did, there’s no way he can take all of them at once. To the roofs, then.</p><p>Corvo risks a glance up as he lifts his sword to parry another blow. There’s no obvious path to reach them, but he thinks if maybe he can catch this windowsill a few feet up he can make it out of there with all his limbs attached. That leaves the issue of actually getting to that window. The guards have him cornered, his back against the wall. The few feet of space he manages to clear around him between them won’t last for more than a few seconds. Maybe if he throws himself at them, push them out of the way— there’s no way it won’t hurt but he can make it work.</p><p>The guards raise their swords. Corvo breathes out and prepares for a gamble.</p><p>The blades never come down. They freeze in place at the apex of their arc as the men holding seem to turn into statues. Colors wash away and the sound of their yells fade, leaving behind a heavy not-silence like the bottom of a pool. Tendrils of shadows haloed by purplish light curl at the edge of Corvo’s sight.</p><p>“Hello, my dear Corvo.”</p><p>Corvo closes his eyes briefly, mind torn between aggravation and relief. There’s always a small, traitorous part of him that’s glad to see the Outsider, usually followed by the petty satisfaction of knowing that <em>his</em> god comes when he calls. Sometimes.</p><p>(Take that, Abbey.)</p><p>Still, he could do without the smugness.</p><p>“Outsider,” he greets, looking up.</p><p>The Outsider is sitting on the windowsill Corvo was eyeing as his escape route before, one leg crossed over the other as if he were perched on a plush chair rather than an inch thick piece of wood. He seems to be content watching him for a moment. Corvo, used to his strange attention, bears the scrutiny easily. Even if he can’t help questioning the Outsider’s motives for helping him, he can at least stand still and let him do… whatever he came here to do.</p><p>In a blink the Outsider is facing Corvo. His heels actually clack softly against the pavements as he stands on his two feet instead of hovering ominously as he usually does. He’s surprisingly short. Corvo always expects him to be larger than life, both literally and not, but he has a good few inches on the god. It doesn’t make him any less impressive to be around — his presence feels the way he imagines the bottom of the ocean to, heavy and dark in a way his brain can’t quite wrap around.</p><p>A pale hand rises to brush against his cheek, coming away stained with red. One of the guards must have grazed him and he didn’t notice. The Outsider hums pensively, rubbing his fingers together. The blood smears, shockingly bright against his skin. Corvo looks at it and feels a little weird for a reason he’s not sure he wants to think about.</p><p>Instead of the dispassionate, sarcastic comment he’s come to expect from the god, the Outsider says, “Perhaps you see caution as a secondary concern to your grand quest, but you might find that saving your empress is a much more complex task when one has lost an arm or a life to an enemy’s weapon.”</p><p>If it were anyone else saying this, Corvo would say it sounds like concern. The concept of the Outsider not only feeling but expressing concern for him though is ludicrous at best. Still he can’t help smiling slightly.</p><p>“It’s not like I chose to fall off a roof,” he huffs, more amused than annoyed. “But thank you for the word of advice.”</p><p>The Outsider blinks, not quite surprised, as if he hadn’t expected such a response but accepts it as his due.</p><p>Somewhere in the distance, whale song echoes. His eyes jump to the still frozen men behind Corvo. His expressionless mask slips the slightest bit, tensing in an almost imperceptible way. The moving shadows writhe at their feet. Then he looks back at Corvo.</p><p>“Time is running out,” he says as if time means anything to him or to the Void. “You better go. Fate is waiting for you.”</p><p>How terrifyingly ominous.</p><p>Corvo lingers for a moment more, unsure of how to proceed. Should he just run off? The Outsider doesn’t move from his spot, watching him silently.</p><p>He steps around him and stops again. They’re close enough he can feel the cold radiating off the god, the smell of brine hanging over him. Then, giving in to the reckless instinct that lets him jump over a sixty-foot drop, he rests his hand on the Outsider’s arm for an instant. He’s more solid than Corvo expected him to be.</p><p>“Thank you,” he repeats. He knows that he could have died there if not for the Outsider’s timely interruption, and even though he might never understand the god’s reasoning he can be grateful for it.</p><p>The Outsider doesn’t say a word. Corvo takes off running, but he can’t help feeling a little smug himself for shocking the god into silence.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>is the outsider abusing his powers because he already knows the events of DotO are coming and he has nothing left to lose? PERHAPS! or maybe he just loves corvo</p><p>come haunt me on <a href="https://twitter.com/2Fast2Kangoo">twitter</a> or <a href="https://youngster-monster.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>